Ch.166166. Ilroy (2)

“The weather has gotten quite cold.”

In a café in the capital city. I had rented out the entire café to meet with Isis. Outside, knights in civilian clothes stood guard to prevent anyone from eavesdropping. Isis placed both hands neatly around her steaming teacup. The slight trembling of her hands wasn’t just from the cold, I’m sure.

“What’s going to happen to Aryen?”

“Execution.”

I said it simply, as if it were nothing unusual. There was no reason to hesitate, no need to sugarcoat it. Aryen was going to die. He didn’t seem to have any intention of avoiding death from the beginning. It was a decision completely unlike him. The Aryen I knew wouldn’t accept such a thing so easily. The color drained from Isis’s face.

“Execution… you say.”

“It was too serious to overlook. In the first place… I wonder if we could have prevented it from happening.”

It was already in the past. I sighed, lowering my eyes.

“Couldn’t he be sent to the frontier or something like that?”

“I don’t think it’s completely impossible. Aryen is useful. If we’re willing to endure the complaints from soldiers and knights, I think we could find a way to keep him alive and put him to use. Of course, the final decision isn’t mine to make… so we’ll have to wait.”

I couldn’t interfere with internal affairs. If the Queen firmly chose to execute him, I had no right to dissuade her. Of course, if I pleaded, things might change. My words would carry more weight than just words in the royal palace. But if I started meddling in internal affairs, it was clear I would become a monster far beyond any calamity.

“It sounds ridiculous to talk about leniency, but all we can do is wait.”

I could only speak so irresponsibly. Isis didn’t blame me. She just quietly picked up her teacup, took a sip, and set it back down.

“Then I can’t jump to conclusions. I’ll wait without worrying.”

Isis spoke as if she wanted Bishop Andre, who was sitting silently beside her, to hear. The bishop looked quite miserable. There was no smile on his face, which had always maintained composure and worn a grin. The bishop met my eyes and forced his lips to curl upward with great difficulty.

“Going to such lengths… thank you.”

“Would you like to meet Aryen?”

“…You haven’t told me what he went through.”

“Hearing it directly is different. As a bishop, no complaints will leak from you.”

A deep, very deep sigh escaped from the bishop’s lips. I took it as a sign of acceptance.

“…Thank you.”

“I’ll put in a word. I think the palace will welcome it too.”

The bishop nodded and quietly rose from his seat, leaving the café. I was about to follow him when Isis grabbed my hand, making me turn back.

“What is it?”

“You, your condition has gotten worse.”

Isis spoke in a reproachful voice. I met her stern eyes and gave a slight smile. Whatever she thought of my smile, she frowned deeply.

“Right now…”

“Right now I’m in a state where it wouldn’t be strange if I collapsed and died?”

“You know it well! You pushed yourself too hard. You’re in a situation where you should never use magic again. What were you thinking, fighting so recklessly?!”

Isis shrieked. Golden holy magic gradually seeped into my body.

“Visit me at least once a week. The best thing would be to move to the Holy Nation entirely and receive regular treatment. Since I can’t come to the Kingdom.”

“Thanks for worrying about me.”

I nodded to the bishop who was watching us from outside, then looked back at Isis.

“I’ll try my best to get treatment.”

“I’ll say it again, a complete cure is impossible. So you need to at least receive regular treatment. Understand?”

“I got it, I got it.”

Isis looked like she was about to pounce on me. I barely managed to calm her down and seat her again.

“Aryen’s fate is uncertain, George lost his leg, the bishop is in that state. And in the midst of all this, what am I supposed to do if you’re in this condition too?”

It was almost like a tearful complaint. I rubbed Isis’s golden hair as she lay slumped over the table.

“I’m not dead yet, and Aryen hasn’t died either. If it gets too hard, I’ll always be here to listen.”

“Shut up. I don’t need you to listen to me, just take care of yourself.”

I nodded as I accepted her holy magic. Isis’s holy magic persistently traveled through my blood vessels toward my heart, wrapping around the torn pieces of magic and binding them together.

“Stay alive. Everyone you’ve saved would want that.”

“So now I can’t even choose whether to live or die?”

“I’m a saint, and you’re a hero. Neither of us should do whatever we please.”

It was a conversation we’d had before. I looked at Bishop Andre talking with the knights outside the window. And I thought of Aryen, who would be imprisoned in the deepest part of the underground dungeon.

“Do you think you’ll hate me if Aryen dies?”

I suddenly asked Isis, looking at her. Isis blinked, then made an expression as if she had tasted something bitter.

“Why would I hate you?”

“Because I could prevent Aryen’s death. Yet I’m doing nothing.”

Isis looked at me with complicated eyes.

“I don’t know. I understand that it’s not something for you to decide. I also know that if I asked you right now to save Aryen, you wouldn’t be able to refuse my request. I can’t bring myself to do that.”

So, Isis said, she would say nothing and show no reaction.

“…Just letting me know the verdict when it comes will be enough.”

“That much I can do.”

I shrugged my shoulders. Isis stared at me intently, as if finding me strange.

“By the way, I didn’t know you cared about my feelings.”

“If a comrade hates me, I think I have enough emotion to be hurt by it.”

Isis didn’t seem to like my answer, narrowing her eyes and glaring at me. Then, with a sigh, she pushed past me and left the café. Isis quickly pulled up her hood, and the knights waiting outside escorted her at a slight distance as they moved away.

“Isis will return directly to the Holy Nation.”

The bishop, who had been watching her with me, said. I turned to look at him. In the sunlight, the shadows and wrinkles on the bishop’s face appeared much deeper.

“What will you do, Bishop?”

“…I will find separate lodging and wait. I’ll leave you my address, so if anything happens, please call for me.”

With those words, the bishop disappeared into the crowd like he was dissolving. The incident was over, but the work wasn’t finished. After sending off the delegation, the tasks poured down like collapsing bookshelves. Aryen, the Evil God, the Calamity, me, and the Holy Sword. I sat down on a sofa in the headquarters lobby and let my thoughts devour me. Sleep soon came to my tired body, and I didn’t resist drowsiness, simply closing my eyes.

==

“…What is this.”

A dream.

Somehow, I realized it was a dream as soon as I opened my eyes. But the dream didn’t fade; rather, it became clearer. I was looking at the sky, which was becoming tangibly clear, when I turned my gaze forward at a sudden presence. There was white hair fluttering in a wind that seemed to come from nowhere.

“[How have you been, Ilroy.]”

At that voice, I was dazed for a moment before opening my mouth as if entranced.

“Holy Sword? Where are you right now? Is it really you?”

The Holy Sword shook her head slightly. Then she looked at the endlessly stretching mirror horizon. The clouds seemed to be continuously produced at the point where the mirror and sky met, flying toward us. The Holy Sword’s hair seemed to flutter as one with the clouds.

“[Now you no longer need to go after the seventh calamity.]”

I blinked, looking at the Holy Sword. The Holy Sword’s smile was refreshing and clear, as if she had put down a heavy burden. Clouds passed through her slightly upturned red eyes.

“[You don’t have to overwork your heart, and you don’t have to pick up a sword again.]”

She had an atmosphere as if she might leave for somewhere at any moment. I frowned and approached the Holy Sword. Perhaps about five steps away. But no matter how much I walked, the Holy Sword didn’t get any closer. I was bewildered, then began moving my feet while cursing.

“What are you doing now? This isn’t a dream, is it? What are you trying to show me?”

“[Of course it’s a dream, Ilroy. Just that its master has changed temporarily.]”

The Holy Sword spoke from a place my hands couldn’t reach. I flailed my arms, trying to pound on the blocked sky, but my hands only passed through the air. The Holy Sword slowly approached me.

“Explain. I can’t understand anything that happened in the darkness, so explain everything. Who you are, who I am. What that squirming thing is.”

“[…Now is not the time when that matters so much, I don’t want to burden you by telling you that. So,]”

The Holy Sword reached out her hand. As if pitying me, her thumb carefully stroked my face. The Holy Sword had rarely extended her hand to me, but whenever she touched me, I felt like she was handling a fragile glass artwork. I bit my lip, and the Holy Sword smiled and opened her mouth.

“[It means you no longer need to kill yourself for someone else, Ilroy.]”

“That’s ridiculous, really. I’m already dying.”

“[If you don’t use more mana and live normally, that’s fine. A saint might not be able to cure you completely, but she could slow the symptoms and alleviate the pain.]”

“Shut up. I think I’ll die before that happens.”

My voice trembled despite trying to sound sarcastic. How could she say such things without changing her expression? I was overwhelmed with the urge to grab the Holy Sword’s collar.

“You’re the God of Light who opposed the Evil God.”

The Holy Sword’s caressing hand stopped. Her clear, smiling red eyes became dull and heavy. The Holy Sword lowered her hand and sighed. The sound was thick.

“[God of Light…]”

The Holy Sword laughed self-mockingly with empty eyes.

“[He no longer exists, Ilroy. The beings closest to gods are only the great ends squirming beyond that darkness. Ends that harbor malice and constantly approach.]”

The Holy Sword’s voice was stiff as she spoke about gods. I frowned at the unexpected answer. The god ‘no longer’ exists? Facing my confused expression, the Holy Sword spoke again.

“[That god died at the end of mythology, scattering his power in many places.]”

Someone who could calmly say a god had died. Someone who could exist in a form like a thought entity. I couldn’t guess the identity of this woman – the Holy Sword.

“…Then what are you?”

With my question, the Holy Sword’s figure gradually began to blur. Her expression was tinged with anxiety for a moment. The Holy Sword turned her head back sharply, then returned to me. At that expression, which seemed to ask me not to inquire further, I could only grit my teeth.

“Why have you been helping me all this time?”

“[I am nothing, Ilroy. Not a god, and certainly not human. There’s too little time to reveal who I am, what kind of person I was.]”

Regret seeped through the Holy Sword’s voice. The Holy Sword placed her hand on my arm with a dry smile. She rubbed my arm briefly, then stepped back.

“[Don’t doubt your existence despite everything. You have the qualification and right to live without being bound by your past. Your present is more important than your origin.]”

Now the Holy Sword’s feet were no longer visible. I tried to force myself forward by drawing out magic, but the mana wouldn’t move, and I was only reminded that this was just a dream landscape.

“Damn it.”

My consciousness was fading. The Holy Sword was trying to drive me out of the dream now. I shook my head and took steps, resisting the receding dream. Giving up? Did she think I would accept it if she just left me behind and went in alone? Clenching my fist and piercing through my vision, I ran.

There is someone there, trying to shoulder something alone again.

“Hey!”

I can’t reach her. Then I have no choice but to run faster. I approach the Holy Sword, whose calves have almost disappeared. My steps that wouldn’t advance broke through the barrier. My flailing arms found balance. I forcibly narrowed the distance that wouldn’t close, and twisted it.

“Don’t pretend you can’t hear me when you can.”

I caught her. I grabbed the Holy Sword’s arm that had been unreachable. Using that sensation as a clue, I struggled not to be expelled from the dream. Biting my tongue doesn’t draw blood. It only keeps my mind from waking up for a moment. The time I can hold on isn’t long. To not leave her alone, I spoke with difficulty.

“Wherever that place is, I’m coming to where you are.”

The Holy Sword’s eyes opened wide. To completely erase the dull look that had settled in those eyes, I spoke firmly, applying strength. I let all other sensations fade away. I kept only those red eyes in my sight.

“Wait for me.”